


American High School

by trebleDeath



Category: No Fandom, Original Work, founding fathers - Fandom
Genre: Drama, Everyone Is Gay, F/F, F/M, Gen, Highschool AU, M/M, Modern AU, Multi, Other, and a dick, and foreshadowing, and matching jackets, and references to history, founding fathers fan fiction, gay founding fathers, intense scheming, this is my legacy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-11
Updated: 2018-01-24
Packaged: 2018-09-23 10:44:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,043
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9652376
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/trebleDeath/pseuds/trebleDeath
Summary: Alternatively titled Founding Father's Fan Fiction, but I thought that was too cliche.A group of friends that just so happen to share the names, aquaintences, and general personalities of the founding fathers, except in a highschool near Mount Rushmore in a small town flooded by tourists and everything is gay.Will they survive the drama while keeping their morals intact?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is genuinely what I am known for at my school. I walk in, and people are like! You're that girl! 
> 
> Anyway, it's actually pretty good, funny, and saucy. So put away your judgement.

Benjamin Franklin was nearly panting by the time he got into the school’s front doors. With an irritated look firmly planted in his eyes, he turned to face Alexander Hamilton. “See? I told you we had to leave earlier than seven fifteen in order to get a good parking spot.”

The other just shrugged and continued to text. As soon as he was done pestering whoever was on the other side of that conversation, he lowered his phone ever so slightly to return a glare at Franklin. “I didn't think it mattered that much. Besides, exercising wouldn’t hurt you.”

With a huff, he rolled his eyes. The two walked in silence for a few steps more before Hamilton spoke again. “Hey, so what are you doing this weekend? I was thinking we could do something like go to the mall or whatever.”

Instead of his shoulders rising ever so slightly in what would be formally known as a shrug, Franklin’s eyebrows rose in something similar to surprise. “Just you and me? That would be a first. Is there any particular reason for that?”

“It’s not like I’m trying to hit on you or anything, it’s just that literally everyone else is busy. Like, what the hell?” 

"Oh? You didn’t hear?” The beginnings of a small smirk were beginning to appear on his toad-like face. 

That brought Hamilton’s attention away from his phone with an almost audible snap from his neck. “What party? If there had been a party, I would have known about it. There’s no party, you must be mistaken.” He spoke too quickly to warrant any reply from Franklin. 

He shrugged, “Oh yeah, I guess I forgot. You weren’t invited. I mean, I wasn’t even supposed to bring it up because it might offend you. Woops.” A sick smirk overtook the thin lipped irritation that normally rode on his face. 

“Oh haha, what a silly mistake. I’m sure it’s a mistake that I wasn’t invited as well?”

Another shrug followed, “I don’t know. Ask George, he was the one who issued the proclamation.”

“Yeah, I’ll go ask him. I’m sure this is a mistake. If he’s throwing a party, he most definitely would invite his best friend. Especially if he’s inviting you.”

Franklin rolled his eyes, “Yeah, whatever. You have every right to be upset and all, but really? Don’t you think you’re over using your italics?”

Hamilton paused his huffy walk away and turned back to him a question already forming on his lips. “What the Hell do you mean by that?”

Again, the taller shrugged ever so softly, “Just that if you were to write down everything you’re saying, you’d have to use a whole lot of italics to convey your bratty, emphasizing tone. It’s tiring how much emotion you put into your words really.”

“Whatever. I don’t even care what you think anymore, You’re just a liar who’s trying to drive a wedge between me and George. I don’t have time for your stupid musings anymore. I have to go talk to someone.” He resumed his march to the lunchroom where the majority of their friends gathered in the mornings and after school. 

 

Alexander Hamilton managed to squeeze himself between George Washington and Thomas Jefferson. It was no small feat considering how tall and broad Jefferson was, but it was better than the alternative of pressing himself between Gilbert du Motier and Washington. The last time he did that, the taller looked like he wanted to attack him, though he just glared daggers. 

Honestly, it was hard for Hamilton to make himself be known in any sort of group circle considering he was at least two inches shorter than everyone except Samual Adams. Still, he managed to make do by forcing himself next to Washington and being loud.

As he was snug against the side of everyone’s elected leader, he did just that; spoke loudly. “Sooo, George, I heard you’re having a party tonight. Is is federalist or anti-federalist. Or are you skipping the whole political party thing and just throwing a get together?”

Everyone in the circle fell silent, shifting their gaze from each other to Washington, then to Hamilton and back. 

After a tense moment, Washington spoke, “Um, Alex… about that. There is going to be a party, but I don't think that you’ll be invited.” His voice was soft despite the sheer size of his person. 

Hamilton’s face grew red and his mouth opened and closed multiple times before anything came out. FInally, words sputtered forth, “What? You mean Ben wasn’t lying? What the hell? Why am I not invited? I’m your best friend! It’s not a party without me. What the fuck George?”

He sighed, “Ben told you? I asked him not to, I knew you’d just get upset--”

“Yeah I’d get upset. What the hell were you thinking? Why am I not invited?” 

“I was about to get to that before you interrupted me” A hint of irritation creeped into his voice. “As I was saying, I knew you’d get upset, that’s why we didn’t tell you. But that’s also kind of why you’re not invited, cause it’s sort of a punishment? I mean, that sounds all kinky and shit, so it’s not like that. But it’s like revenge..” He trailed off, though just for a moment before he quickly picked the topic back up. “Well, how good would you say you are at using tech?”

He shrugged, much like Franklin would, “I don’t know. Pretty goood? But what does this have to do with anything?”

Washington ignored his last question, “You're not nearly as good at using tech as you think you are. You know that text you sent out monday morning? The one about how you thought that Benjamin was the fat ugly friend we all kept around to do our homework for us and no other reason?”

“It’s not my fault I said that. I mean, what can you expect when you look like a pig who found some grandfather glasses and decided to grow out its hair in order to look like goldilocks. Honestly, everyone should have--” He faltered as realization hit him, “Oh my god. Are you saying that because I said one mean thing about that loser I don’t get to party? That’s the lamest thing I’ve ever heard George.”

“It’s not just that. Ben was in the group chat, you insulted him! To his face! You made him doubt his position in our group, and I will not have you making anyone doubt the sincerity of any relationship. I hate dividing people up. Plus, it was unnecessarily rude.” Washington paused for a moment. “Honestly, even if Ben hadn’t seen that, I would have been upset. That’s overly mean and I’ve known him since the first grade. I may be more popular now, but he’s the reason we all know each other.”

A whine built into the back of his throat, “But you have to admit he’s a loser.”

At that point, all attempts to stave off the irritation had flown out the window. Sharp annoyance invaded his tone as he responded one last time, “He’s not a loser, Alexander, he’s my best friend.”

A shrill gas escaped his lips, “Oh. My. God. You are literally taking away my pursuit of happiness right now. How could you?”

Thomas Jefferson, who up until this point had not spoken a word, turned to Hamilton, nostrils flared in disgust, “You think him denying you a position as his best friend is denying you happiness? You may be upset, but you are by no means being oppressed in a way that you have no freedom to do what you want in life. There are people who are dying in the world, people who are beaten just for their religion or ethnicity, there are people in the world who can’t do anything because there aren't resources or there’s a corrupt government. And you’re comparing that to your minor social inconvenience?”

Heat rose in Hamilton’s cheeks, starting from his neck and going all the way to the tips of his ears. “Fine. I can see that you all just hate me. So I’ll just go now before I humiliate myself even more.” He turned abruptly and stormed out of the cafeteria, no doubt to go sulk in a bathroom until the first period bell. 

Benjamin franklin easily took his spot moments after his departure. “What was that all about?”

Washington raised a single brow, “Oh, you don’t know? Someone told him that we were having a party and he wasn’t invited.” His voice was stern, but still a smile played in his pale eyes. 

Franklin couldn't help but smile back, though with his mouth instead of his eyes. “I’m sorry George, I couldn’t help it.”

“I’m betting you could.”

“He inadvertently called me fat. Then practically said that the only reason he would ever want to hang out with me is if no one else was available. He’s just such a prick, I had to show him we didn’t need him.”

With a heavy sigh, Washington wrapped a toned arm around the shorter’s shoulders, “You’re going to end up stooping to his level. Just be nice. Like I told him, we value everyone equal here. He’s just jealous that you’re more equally valued.”

“Fine. I’ll play nice. But I’m not going out of my way to apologize.” He pulled away from his almost hug, “Anyway, I think I need to get going to physics.” With an exaggerated blown kiss towards the group, he started to walk away, much calmer than Hamilton had done minutes before. 

Halfway to the AP physics classroom, Aaron Burr stopped Benjamin Franklin by putting a slim, tanned hand on his shoulder. 

“Hey! Ben! Did you get yesterday’s english notes? I didn’t get all of them, and I just know that there’s going to be a test today.”

Franklin sighed, “It really isn’t that hard to pay attention long enough to get all the notes.”

“I know, but I didn’t. Just be a pal and let me copy some of your notes? I mean, it’s not like this is an assignment or anything, it’s not like you’re helping me cheat. Come on, Ben, be a friend.”

Another sigh followed before he swung his bag off of his one shoulder to paw through the cluttered insides. In all honesty, the bag was a disorganized, chaotic mess, but somehow everything managed to stay pristine and unwrinkled. 

After a moment of searching, he handed over the neat notes. “Try to give them back to me before the end of the week.”

He raised a dark brow as he took the notes, “Really? You don’t want it by the end of the day, or even before your english class?”

“It’s fine. I already studied for this quiz I just want it back so I can study for the unit test then the final later on. That’s the whole point of taking notes.”

Burr stuck out his tongue, “Whatever. I just need to memorize everything for right now. I’m sure it will stick. If not, too bad. Anyway, thank you for the notes. I’ll probably get them back to you by tomorrow. Bye!” With the chipper farewell, he turned on his heel and started off in the opposite direction. 

Franklin gave a soft shrug at the odd yet typical encounter and continued towards his class, only after he fixed his bag, of course. 

 

Several hours after school, several teenage boys were gathered in George Washington’s expansive room, talking softly among themselves, listening to the music playing from someone’s phone and just generally having a good time. Though it probably would have been better had Sam Adams hurried up with the beer. 

Benjamin Franklin sat in the corner of the room on the old, familiar beanbag, a handheld gaming device in his hands. 

Washington made his way over, a cup of root beer in his hands; that was the closest thing they had to actual alcohol at the moment. “Hey, what’s up Ben?”

He shrugged, “Not much. Trying to pass this fricking level, but not much besides that.”

“Cool, cool.” Disinterest played on his face, though he kept up appearances. 

With a sigh disguised as a smile, he set down his game and turned fully to Washington, “What’s up with you though? Having a fun time at your party?”

He rolled his eyes, “As if. You know I don’t like parties. Like, three people here do, and one of those is John H, he only like them drunk. The other is Sam, who's not even here and he’s late with the alcohol. Everyone else just comes to parties because it’s what you do. Popular people throw parties, everyone who wants to be known by popular people come. No one likes them, especially when sober. Especially when my dad who was supposed to still be on a business trip came home early and shooed us all upstairs.”

Franklin’s smile grew more genuine as the other spoke, “Sounds like it’s a really fun party then.”

By that point, Washington’s smile was all but gone. “No. Ben. Weren’t you listening? It’s really not fun. I hate this.”

“Well, I don't like this either, if that makes you feel better,” He raised his game as if that proved his point further. 

“Ben, this was your idea.”

He gave a slight shrug, “I know. But it was mostly to make Alex mad. He really does love to party.”

A groan escaped Washington’s lips, “Shit. Alex isn’t here. Ignore my other statement; only two people here genuinely enjoy parties like this.” He gave a sigh, “I can feel any shred of popularity I had draining away,” With another exaggerated groan, he flopped down against the bean bag, perpendicular to Franklin. Naturally, the root beer he was holding sloshed over the lip of the red solo cup as he did so. Luckily his shirt and the carpet absorbed most of it. “Ben, come closer.”

With a lazy smile, he leaned closer, “What is is George? Are you going to tell me your dying wishes?”

“Ben. Listen to me.”

“George, I’m listening.”

“BEN! I want Sam to get here so I can get drunk off my ass and forget I listened to your dumb ass idea of throwing a party. Also, so everyone else can get drunk off their asses and this party will be saved.”

“That’s a shitty dying wish.”

He stuck out his tongue. “Whatever.”

The two fell into a comfortable silence, though it only lasted a short moment. 

“Looks like John A and Tom are arguing again,” With a lazy, now sticky hand, Washington gestured to his bed where the two were sitting, arguing as was common place. 

“They have so much in common, and they consider themselves best friends, so why do they argue so much?”

“Are you asking rhetorically, or do you genuinely want an answer, because I do have a theory.”

“I was mostly asking rhetorically, but I’d love to hear your theory.”

He propped himself up, sticking his elbow in the sticky puddle next to him “Well, I think that one or both of them are repressing their homosexual tendencies. Honestly, they should just get together, you know?”

That raised a few thin eyebrows on Franklin’s part, “What?”

He turned his head to look at him, “What don’t you understand? It’s like a textbook case of repressed homosexuality. Though saying it like that is kind of pretentious. I think that one of them likes the other romantically, maybe both. Either way, they want to remain friends, but have to distance themselves lest people start rumours about them. But there are already rumours about them, and I can totally see it. They should get together.”

“No, I understand the part about them being repressed, and how an inborn sense of homophobia can lead to them distancing themselves, I mean for God’s sake George, I was in your psychology class. I meant, ‘What? You would be okay with two of your friends dating?’ As in, you yourself are not opposed to the gay lifestyle?”

His brows furrowed, “No. What have I done to make you think I’m a homophobe?”

“Nothing really, but it doesn’t really seem fitting for you to be all that accepting. I mean, you’re our school’s athletic hero. And you’re so buff and handsome and kind and smart, and just generally everything that fits with the homophobic stereotype. Well, except the kind part…”

A bright smile made its way onto Washington’s face. “How kind of you.”

Franklin rolled his eyes, “Okay, now I think we’ve said the word ‘kind’ too many times. But let’s get back to talking about how this party sucks.”

“Yeah, that.” Washington rolled over so that he was resting on his stomach, his chin resting on his sticky arm as he peered up at Franklin. “Sam isn’t here so no one is wasted, and Alex isn’t here having fun. He’s a pain in the ass, but I kinda miss him. And on a more important note, I kind of feel like a huge hypocrite since I told him to never make anyone doubt their position in a group of people. 

“Yeah, well he’s a dick. And it’s called karma, not hypocrisy.”

“I thought the whole point of karma was that the universe as supposed to give back the negative vibes, not people. So yeah, it is hypocrisy.”

“It’s not hypocrisy, it’s payback or revenge or karma. I’m still going to say karma because I like to believe that the universe can work through people and not just the elements or luck.”

Washington once again rolled his too blue eyes, “Whatever. I still feel like a major dick, that was the bottom line. And I don’t need you to validate me.”

Franklin raised a single brow in return. “Then do you want me to give you a solution?”

He pouted instead of answering. 

It was Franklin’s turn to sigh. He did so with a roll of the eye before he stood up, “Whatever. Invite him over, I’m sure he’ll be glad and that he’s already learned his lesson. It will liven up the party too.”

“Won’t that piss you off though?”

“That’s the thing about the world, George, not everyone is going to be happy. I’m willing to compromise this time, even if that means going home to miss this great party.”

Before Washington could argue back, he walked out of the room, not that many people noticed. With a wave to Henry who was drinking scotch in the kitchen, he was on his way home to study for the damned english test.


	2. Chapter 2

In the end, Benjamin Franklin never got around to studying, but he had a feeling he would do rather well on the test even if he didn’t study. He usually wouldn’t have studied so diligently, but he just felt like he should in order to keep his mind off of the party. But that was neither here nor there. 

The only reason he wasn’t studying was because he couldn’t find the right notes, and thus started the quest to find them. It took him until almost one in the morning to realize that he couldn’t find his notes because he lent them out to Aaron Burr. 

He would have to get those back from him soon, preferably before the end of the week. 

The only thing on his mind as he walked into school the next morning, existing off of five hours of sleep, was Aaron Burr and his lost notes.He was so lost in thoughts of notes and slimy sons of bitches, he nearly ran right into George Washington. 

Washington smiled at him in that kind, sort of fatherly way of his, “Hey, it’s Ben. Head in the cloud?”

Franklin grinned back, though his heart wasn’t in it, “Yeah, I suppose. I’m still a bit upset at Alex so there’s that and then I’m thinking about my english class and Aaron Burr.”

“Wow, okay, I didn’t need to hear your life story.”

He stuck out his tongue, “You know you love hearing about my day. It’s the only glimpse into my life you’ll get.”

“Okay, fair enough, but I’m not sure that this counts as hearing about your day. It’s only like, what? Eight in the morning?”

“Whatever, you know what I mean. How’s your day been so far?”

“Fine I guess…” He trailed off. “I can't really say since it’s only like, eight in the morning.”

“So I’ve heard. How was the party last night?”

“It was pretty good after the beer arrived and Alex showed up. Sam actually had to climb through the window to get the beer to us; it was actually kind of funny. I wish you were there to see it. But the after party biz was the real kicker.”

Franklin raised a brow, “Yeah? Did a certain redhead and chubby nerd kiss?”

“I wish. But now, something better. As I was cleaning up my room around one, my dad comes in and yells at me for having a party, and for having a party on a weekday, and having a party when my brother is supposed to be asleep and drinking while underage. Then he goes on to say I shouldn’t drink on a school night if I am going to drink, and all of my shortcomings thus far are why my chemistry grades are slipping.” Washington ended his small rant with a sigh. 

A small irritated line planted itself firmly on Franklin’s face by the end of it. This was a common look for him. Well, common enough; it never seemed to be around when Washington was. “Sounds like hell.”

“It was. This is part of why I never throw parties. It just gives my dad another weapon to use against me, another shortcoming for him to make up. It’s so stupid. And now he won't get off my back about chemistry.”

“Oh no. If only you had a friend who took and passed college level chemistry with an A.”

Washington’s own eyebrows lifted, amusement dancing in his eyes, “Do you know someone?”

“Yeah, someone who has some free time after school today and wouldn’t mind staying after with you in the library to help you study because the two of you already have some chemistry.”

He rolled his eyes, “Wow, way to ruin the flirting with a pun.”

A smile returned full force to Franklin’s face, “What’s wrong with puns! And who said that whatever we were just doing was flirting.”

He shrugged, the very act of that causing his muscles to strain ever so slightly against his sick, faded shirt. “No one but me. It just kind of felt like flirting, you know?”

“But we’re both boys?”

He rolled his eyes, “Gross. You sound like a straight boy ™. We can just both know ourselves that this doesn’t mean anything, but still flirt, leaving the rest to wonder. I don’t care man. I already told you, my masculinity is secure and I don't give a shit about that gay shit.”

Franklin gave a small shrug that matched the small, almost self conscious smile on his face. “Okay, then I guess we were flirting, not like it will lead anywhere.”

“Dude,” His face fell from the comfortable smile he wore to a relatively unamused face. “I thought I just said this. If you have to say anything about it, then it’s not cool anymore. You just have to know yourself. Anyway, I don’t want to keep the rest of the guys waiting; it’s like they need me to corral them in the cafeteria in the mornings to have a good day. But I’ll see you after school to study?”

“Uh, yeah. Totally. Meet in the library?”

“Sounds good.” Washington clapped him on the shoulder and walked away, or rather, continued down the path he was headed when Franklin cut him off. 

 

Benjamin Franklin was in the library after school, as was planned. Or rather, the was headed towards the library. He wasn't as punctual as George Washington or Thomas Jefferson. But that wasn’t to say he was like Alexander Hamilton and late to everything, or even worse, Samuel Adams who only showed up about half the time.

Still, the was on his way to the library,just moments after the bell had run. It was likely that Washington was already sitting at a table, his things neatly laid out, and waiting, though they had just been released.

Sure enough, when Franklin finally did enter the library, Washington was sitting at a far side of the room, a single paper in front of him; probably his homework.

As he drew nearer, he frowned. Frowning was fairly common for him, what with all the idiocy that prevailed in the town of Keystone, but it was an odd sight on Washington’s face.

Yes, Washington was frowning, and more than that, he seemed to be crying. His face was flush with the shame that only comes with the damaged pride of a man crying in today’s patriarchal world and being seen crying in a public space. HIs chiseled cheeks were marked with the tell tale marks of tear tracks, carving deep rivers that sang songs of sorrow to anyone willing to lend an ear.

At such a pitiful sight, Franklin all but ran over. Well, he jogged, or walked at a brisk pace. Running was highly discouraged in the library, not like he was the type of guy to break out running in the first place. The only running he did was to bed or after an ice cream truck. 

Still, his brow creased with worry at the sight of his closest friend wracked with an emotion strong enough to bring him to tears. He hurried over, his brows still creased and his mouth fixed into his usual twisted frown.  
“George! Are you okay, what’s going on?”

“What do you mean what's going on? Ben! You can't just give me something like this and expect me to take it in stride! Like, I know that I said I'm an ally and all that but I’m not ready for this. Oh my god, that flirting we did this morning? Did I lead you on?”

“George. What the hell, calm down. I have no idea what you're talking about.”

“This, Ben.” His hand flailed wildly as he gestured at the creased paper in front of him.

His mouth still twisted into a small, tight frown, Franklin took a seat next to a wailing Washington and picked up the creased paper. 

There were very few capital letters to be found and no numbers in sight. It could indeed be concluded that this was not, in fact, chemistry homework. He read more in depth, only for his brows to crease and to look up at a still teary eyed Washington. 

“What the hell is this?”

“I should be asking you that!”

“Okay.” Well, he clearly wouldn’t be any help. “I was mostly asking rhetorically, but okay.” He paused for a second, sighing softly. It only took a moment for him to scan it. “It’s a love letter,” Again, he voiced his thoughts out loud, but it only threw Washington into another fit of tears. 

“Yeah, I know Ben. What the fuck. I know I said I wasn’t a homophobe, but I don’t think I can deal with this.”

“George. I didn’t write this.” His voice grew hard as he corrected his friend 

“It’s in your handwriting! If you didn’t write it, then who did?”

“I don’t kno--” He had to cut himself off as realization his him in the face. “Burr.” It was almost a whisper.

He stood up abruptly from the chair and rushed out of the library leaving a wailing Washington to call after him. “Benjamin! Where are you going!”

Not answering the boy’s calls as he fled the library. As soon as he entered the hall, he spotted the culprit of the heinous crime he had witnessed. “You!” He shouted as he pointed at Aaron Burr. 

Burr feigned surprise, “Me? What do you want, Benny boy?”

“I want to know why!”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

He scowled, “You know exactly what! Why else would be standing out here if you were innocent?”

Burr shrugged, “I saw you and George sitting in there and I was wondering if you would finally confess your love for him.”

“I don’t have any feelings for him.”

“Oh, denying it already? Did it go bad, forcing you to lie through your teeth?” He fake pouted at Franklin. 

“Just admit you wrote that damn love letter.”

He put a hand to his chest in faux offense, “How DARE you accuse me of such things! I would never.” 

Franklin took a step forward, “You absolutely would.”

Burr took a step forward in turn, “I absolutely wouldn’t,” another step, “And even if I had,” another one, “There’s nothing for me to gain,” he was standing directly in front of him now, “Now is there, Benny?”

“I don’t know why you would do this, but I know you did it. You just like causing chaos.”

“Maybe I do. And what are you going to do about it?”

He could have pulled his hand back and punch him square in the jaw, but he didn’t. He grabbed the front of his shirt and pulled him closer. But he didn’t shout in his face, or hit him. Instead, overtaken by his impulses,he brought his face closer and banged their lips together. 

It hurt, to say the least. It probably didn’t look like it did in the movies. His lip his his teeth and he was sure he was bleeding from the lip.

Burr just grunted in surprise, or pain. His lips were still for a little bit, and his mouth tasted like copper and that horrible peppermint chapstick he wore. Both their mouths were closed and not moving, but it was still a powerful sweeping kiss. 

Franklin pulled away and let the shorter man fall to his feet. He opened his mouth but no words came out. So, he just walked away, leaving Washington to cry and Burr to stand there, stunned.


End file.
